As the Seventh Month Dies
by magfrump
Summary: Instead of talking to Lily Potter, Voldemort throws her out the window. She returns to help now-chosen Neville defeat him. I managed to catch 'em all and write a couple chapters before I was even late for my weekly update! Updates Mondays, and should end before Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

Voldemort left Godric's Hollow early November first, laughing wildly.

Lily Potter wept and cursed, alone. She waited, and she counted the years.

A new plot hatched, and Voldemort departed. His sovereignty of Britain was safe with Lucius; his power in Hogwarts trusted in Severus.

Dumbledore could not last forever, and the Dark Lord could.

He had seen to it that he WOULD last forever.

Thirteen years later, the call comes in. Alastor Moody is ready, as he is always ready. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

And he gives them an old address in Godric's Hollow.


	2. Chapter 2

"I hop you find I have the necessary qualifications."

"Yes, Lily, it was never a question of that."

"Then what is it, Albus? Why won't you hire me?"

Albus frowned.

"I know you don't fear the curse, you must have heard what happened to Remus."

"No curse frightens me." Lily's green eyes shown with determination.

"And I suppose you'll say that if I was prepared to ask Alastor I can't reject you on the grounds that you're a recluse..."

Lily nodded. Her eyes remained fixed on him. It had been a long time since Albus had been frightened by a pair of piercing green eyes.

If only he could explain why... if he could describe these feelings in words, perhaps one wouldn't have to wait so long to become a Mysterious Old Wizard. Well, if that was the case then it was probably for the best that he couldn't. Albus sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

"My respect for your previous defense professors is limited to Remus Lupin, who is a dear friend. However my instruction style will depart drastically even from his." Lily's eyes darted around the class of fourth year Gryffindors.

A perky brunette whose fluffy hair had begun to settle listened diligently, taking notes without needing to look down.

A boy with bright red hair-a Weasley-sat next to her, disinterested.

And there he was. Pudge not quite out of his face, a growth spurt about to hit, she guessed. He wouldn't meet her eye, because he alone knew what it meant to lose your family.

All Taken in at a breath. And then, "First, I will be collaborating much more heavily with other professors. The key to defense is not to know a specific charm to banish a monster, it is to use your knowledge effectively under pressure. Mister Finnigan, how would an auror defend themselves if I attacked them with a stunning charm?" Lily drew her wand dramatically, and pointed it at Seamus.

"Huh? Oh, um, they'd have the counter already up, I guess?"

"Quite. Miss Patil, how would the giant squid defend itself?"

"It wouldn't be phased by a stunning charm, would it professor?"

"Correct. Miss Brown, how would Professor Sprout defend herself if I were to attack her with a stunning charm?"

Lavender gasped. "Who would stun Professor Sprout?! I'd sock you!" There were scattered laughs, nervous.

Lily smiled. "Exactly. Few people would wish harm on our dear Pomona, and many would rush to her aid. Mister Longbottom." She turned her attention to him. "How would YOU defend yourself?"

The room went silent quickly enough for his gulp to be audible.

"I... I would probably just run away, professor." He said, finally, quietly, looking up for only a moment.

"Perfect." Lily sheathed her wand. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Now Miss Granger, if you'll explain to the class why I've chosen these four questions it will be another five points."

Hermione paused and thought.

"A specific counter, resistance, having people help, running away. Any defense should be like one of those?"

"Very good, the five points are yours. In this class we will review techniques to counter, resist, and avoid threats, focusing on techniques that will work on a variety of threats."

Hermione's hand shot up.

"What about having people help?"

Lily smiled, though her eyes stayed fierce.

"Having friends isn't something I'm qualified to teach. But what I will do is put everyone in a class together, and hopefully you'll all be able to manage. That's right, starting next week every house will be in defense at once."

Neville gulped. The rest of Gryffindor rioted.


	4. Chapter 4

"One of the most important skills is to protect yourself when confronted with a more powerful enemy. You are to get into groups of four, one member of each house, and you will take turns, three of you trying to hit the fourth with a full body-bind curse. Use of any other spells will result in points taken from your house. Perform the countercurse and shit members when the target is hit. If any of the others of the group of three are hit, they may perform the counter-curse on each other. At the end of the period, whichever house has the most single students currently unhexed will earn twenty points. If everyone is in their groups, then... GO!"

Neville shudderend, looking around himself.

Crabbe, Neville's own personal walking nightmare.

Ernie MacMillan, a nice enough guy from Hufflepuff.

And Padma Patil, a particularly smart Ravenclaw.

Hm.

"Longbottom go first." Crabbe grunted. But before Padma could even complain about his grammar, Neville was running in tacit agreement.

He ducked past as Hermione easily jinxed Susan Bones, rolled behind a chair alongside Lee Jordan who was hiding from Draco Malfoy.

He jumped over Ron's head, surprising himself with his own agility, and the Weasley took MacMillan's hex to the face.

Neville rolled under legs, knocked over chairs, nearly bounced as he rounded corners.

Suddenly it stopped.

"Ten points from Slytherin." Lily Potter's voice was firm; not a shout, but loud enough to silence the entire fourth year.

"Reducto is not only not allowed, it is dangerous, Mister Crabbe. Also we'll see about detention." Neville turned slowly to the smoking crater just behind him, and felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

Close.

"As for this round... ten points to Hufflepuff for Miss Bones, who recruited her friends from Hufflepuff to protect her. Ten points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin, or Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, who managed to hex all three of their assailants! The twenty points go to Hufflepuff, on account of Miss Bone's alliance. But another twenty points to Gryffindor for Mister Longbottom, the only student never to get hit by a curse. Even Hermione and Draco took a couple of tries to separate their teams in the melee. How did you manage to stay in for so long?"

Neville felt drool begin to trickle out of his dropped jaw, ad slammed it shut, glancing nervously at Hannah Abbott, though he wasn't sure why he did that.

"I guess I've just had a lot of practice running away?" There was some laughter.

"Well then. The four of you see me after class. I'm appointing you this year's deputies. And as for you Ravenclaws, you'll have a chance to make up the points today. Everyone is to write up as many creative ways to avoid being hexed as possible, due tomorrow!"

Groans came from everywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

Neville couldn't decide if he or Susan was more nervous about the deputies' meeting. Malfoy seemed as upset as he'd ever been, but Susan had said they'd be okay, since Cedric was sure to be there.

Sure enough, Cedric, the Weasley twins, Ginny, and Luna were there. Cedric and Ginny had managed to hex their classmates, Fred and George had used dungbombs, and Luna claimed to have achieved victory using "a complicated strategy of smargle-norfing."

Standing by Malfoy, less uniformly but perhaps a bit more intimidating than Crabbe and Goyle, were Flora and Hestia Carrow.

Nearby, but standing apart from both crowds, Zacharias Smith and Melinda Bobbin stood and exchanged nervous glances.

Moments later Lily arrivwed, and the silent tension brook.

"Imagine you needed to retrieve an artifact from the bottom of the Black Lake." She immediately began, with an expectancy of respect that would have done Minerva proud.

"Mister Diggory, how would you use charms to help?"

"A bubblehead charm would do nicely to allow breath underwater." Cedric replied instantly with confidence.

"Miss Carrow, Hestia, how would you use potions?"

She thought. "A potion of water-breathing is obvious. A potion of invisibility might help avoid grindylows and merfolk. The draught of living death might allow you to drop to the depths unnoticed."

"Ten points for Slytherin, for creativity. Your suggestions, however, are all useless. A bubble-head charm will outperform a potion of water breathing, and the merfolk are aggressive toward disturbances in the water, not _visible, living_ disturbances. Mister Smith, transfiguration."

"Hm? Uh." Zacharias seemed dumbfounded.

"Mister Smith?"

"I guess if you had an animagus form of a shark or a fish... not much use to US, though..."

"Corrected and incorrect Mister Smith. Animagus forms can be quite useful. They are NOT, as you all currently believe, outside the reach of Hogwarts students. However, one does not have much control over one's form, again limiting their usefulness. A partial animagus potion could be quite effective, however." Lily paused.

"What else could be used?"

Hermione's hand shot up first, and Neville felt his own hand slowly raise. Cedric's also rose. Fred and George snorted.

"Misters Weasley? Mind telling use what's so funny?"

"Ahem." Said George.

"Well dungbombs, the thing is that..." Fred continued.

"Underwater they don't disperse the same." George concluded.

"Anythig smoke-based, really." Fred added.

"Ten points to Gryffindor. Mister Diggory?"

"Stunning hexes, shield charms, and water jets would be standard."

"Ten to Hufflepuff. Mister Longbottom's hand is still up, yes?"

"Yes ma'am." Neville swallowed as all eyes turned to him. "Gillyweed."

"Gillyweed? What of it?" Lily smiled slightly as she asked. A gentler, more knowing smile than usual, he thought.

"Well, it would be better for swimming than a bubble-head charm, and easier to make than a potion."

"So it would. Ten points to Gryffindor." Nerville drooped with relief.

"Now Miss Granger, if you'll wrap it all up."

Hermione blushed slightly, but it didn't stop her from going off in her classic dictionary style. Neville couldn't hear any of it, his head was still pounding from feeling like _he was doing well in a class._

And Hermione finished, as usual, with a question.

"Did you say earlier that Hogwarts students could become animagi? I thought that the yougnest animagus on record was Randall Fleming at age 18 in 1971?"

Lily Potter did not respond with words, not immediately.

What she responded with was the fastest transition Neville had ever seen from an impression of MacGonagall crossed with Snape to an impression of both Weasley twins, Lee Jordan, and Dumbledore, rolled into one gleefully mischievous ubermensch.

"Now's the time to ask..." Lily began. "Why do you think I've brought you all here today?"


	6. Chapter 6

Lily made a point of meeting with every one of her deputies.

Every one of them.

Even Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, Professor." Even his drawl was grating. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Mister Malfoy. I have some questions to ask you." She peered into his eyes, which he quickly averted. He nodded, not meeting her gaze.

"What is it you want to do with your life, Draco?"

He turned back to her, quickly enough to reveal a smoldering anger beneath his cool facade. Almost immediately he averted his eyes again.

"A fine question for a witch like you," he spat. "I have a legacy to carry on."

"I do not mean insult to your heritage, or to your ability to lead the noble and most ancient house of Malfoy. Perhaps you forget, I am heir to a noble and most ancient house as well."

So is Madame Zabini, Draco thought but did not say.

"My question is what that leadership will consist of, and what it means to you. How will you steer your great ship, young scion?"

Her decorum was quite proper, for a filthy mudblood.

"I shall continue in the tradition of my father, to maintain the power and purity of magical Britain." Draco recited. "To return the wizarding world to its glory under the founders and in the time of Merlin."

Lily nodded. Predictable enough.

"And do you believe that Britain's current path, our impending rule by lord Voldemort, do you believe that this is the path to greatness?"

Draco flinched at the name, and that she would dare speak it. He stood from his sea and turned away from her. "I would think twice before offering my father insult. It is not my place nor yours to question him."

Lily frowned. "But it will be yours, some day when you are ready. A pity that day has not yet come."

Draco left, not waiting to be dismissed.

Lily ran her hands through her hair and breathed deeply. This was going to be like beating her head against a wall.

Her meeting with Fred and George was much nicer.


	7. Chapter 7

"Professor, I still don't know why you picked me. We've been at it for weeks and all the other deputies are still completely outpacing me in every subject."

"And yet, Mister Longbottom, you have gone from the bottom of your class to outpacing the other students of your year, and in all our live-fire exercises and demonstrations you more than hold your own. Perhaps the question you should be asking is not why my perception of you differs from yours, but why yours differs from mine. In fact, write me ten inches on that, due tomorrow."

Neville hadn't had time to freak out about the expectations placed on him, because of all the work those expectations entailed.

Free transfiguration while running. Coordinated levitation charms. Target practice on broomsticks. Repetitions of the patronus charm. And so many essays it made Hermione jealous, despite the fact that that she was an impossible number of electives. Literally impossible; many of the classes were at the same times.

Neither Draco or Susan had as much work, and neither was in Gryffindor, so Hermione and Neville spent many long nights in the library together, often silently reading different books, simply comforted by being near one another.


	8. Chapter 8

Months passed, before the news came. After his constant bragging in their first year, Neville had figured out how to avoid Malfoy's discussions of Voldemort's conquests-the latest being his plans to form and infiltrate a united European muggle government. Neville had been blissfully unaware of this before the deputy meetings. Now he knew, in the last week of classes before Christmas break, that Voldemort's puppet state of Austria would soon be admitted to the European Union.

Neville blanched, sat, tuned out the buzz of Hermione and Cedric's discussion, though he knew Hermione would discuss muggle politics and Cedric would discuss Voldemort's political strategies in the past.

Neville couldn't think about what the politics meant, because he knew the next step of Voldemort's plan. He knew it because Hestia Carrow had pulled him aside before the meeting and whispered into his ear in a mockery of sensuality.

"The dark lord is coming back soon, and when he does, he's taking Azkaban." She had breathed into his ear and moved to bite it, but he had jerked away. She had giggled, then. "You know what that means! Bellatrix will be coming back!"

Lily ended their last meeting quickly, wishing them well for their break.

When they left, Neville, Cedric, and Hermione all found notes in their pockets.

"Meet me at the lakeside at 11:30."


	9. Chapter 9

"When we talked about the Lake at the beginning of the year, I thought it was a theoretical exercise." Hermione whispered.

Cedric and Neville nodded, chewing their gillyweed and wading into the lake.

"No such luck, Miss Granger." Lily replied sternly, handing them mirrors.

"These mirrors are standard issue for aurors. They allow instant communication between one another. We need these not only for underwater communication, but also because we will be working in teams and later separating. Cedric and I will be going down first to clear a path for the two of you. When we get down, we are looking for a diadem; a small silver crown. DO NOT summon it, DO NOT touch it, just help me search and tell me when you find it." Lily made a fist. "If I give this sign in the mirror, we swim up as fast as possible. The gillyweed should be kicking in now. Let's swim."

Gasping for air like she was, Hermione could barely count how many unanswered questions she had.

Why were they seeking this crown?

Why couldn't they touch it?

What were they going to do with it when they found it?

Why were they going tonight?

Why the three of them?

Was this safe?

Wouldn't their housemates notice their absence?

By the time she had tabulated these thoughts they had reached the lakebottom, following a minute after Lily and Cedric. They scoured the ground, uninterrupted and silent, though the occasional pair of red eyes peered at them from above. Hermione barely had time to worry, Lily set their pace so fast, indicating directions for each of them in a patter Hermione eventually deduced to be outward quarter-circles. Efficient for covering a lot of ground.

The haste, the silence, all of it bothered her. And all of it was wasted! Why didn't they just...

"Accio Crown!" she burbled, though it came out "Boggigob Browm."

She saw a glint of silver rushing toward her from not much further out of her quadrant, getting closer. All the while, it was so obvious. Her superiority, their stupidity. Smarter than a Hogwarts professor, they were hardly worthy to hold this beautiful crown, she thought, and she began to place it on her head, raising the mirror to admonish her comrades...

Hermione woke in the hospital wing. Slowly she turned, a headache tossing every thought from her brain, and coughed up a lungful of salty water. She became aware of a loud conversation stopping, and of Madame Pomfrey rushing to her side, then she fell asleep again.

The next time she awoke, she found a pumpkin tart and a chocolate frog sitting on her bedside. Devouring them immediately, she saw a note beneath them.

"I owe you some answers. We'll meet in my office.  
-Albus Dumbledore."


	10. Chapter 10

Headmaster Dumbledore.

Professor Potter.

Professor MacGonagall.

Professor Snape.

It was like a roll call of persons designed to make Neville maximally nervous. Cedric sat quietly.

Hermione sat loudly.

Questions boiled out of her as though they'd been simmering for days, which Neville supposed they had been while she recovered.

"Perhaps it is best, Miss Granger, if I start from the beginning." The old man behind the beard and purple pajamas began.

"Fifteen years ago, during the middle of the war, there was a prophecy concerning the Dark Lord."

Lily grimaced, and shot Dumbledore a dirty look, but the headmaster continued as though he did not notice.

"The prophecy concerned his downfall. And the Dark Lord took steps to prevent its happening. However, in doing so, he revealed a secret. In pursuit of power and immortality, he created objects of foul magic; items born of murder. Items known as horcruxes. While these objects survive, the Dark Lord cannot be killed by any means."

Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger, do you have a question?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Headmaster. What happens if You-Know-Who's body is completely obliterated?"

"Then he will rise as a spirit, little more than a ghost... until he can find some power to fully restore himself."

"Also, what information did he reveal to lead you to that hypothesis? And what did the prophecy _say_ exactly?"

This time it was Lily who answered. "I saw him make one. With the murder of my son." Hermione's voice caught in her throat.

"We both know the only reason that I'm here, Albus, but unless you want me to leave and do this on my own, you'll tell the prophecy to the student I had to stun to save, and net time you'll bring Moody." Lily's gaze was fire and ice. Seated as far across the room from her as possible, Severus straightened so subtly that Neville was unsure if anyone else noticed, although after, Dumbledore gave Neville a knowing wink.

"Well, Professor, if you insist. I'll summon Alastor and we will reconvene. But for now, to answer your questions, Miss Granger.

They are Horcruxes; they carry the psychic residue of the Dark Lord; they are being stored in a secret vault in Gringott's until we find a way to destroy them; you three have been found trustworthy and noble; yes, and no." Neville blinked absently at the flurry of words, but Hermione nodded along.

"Sir." Cedric spoke up finally, less nervous than respectful, Neville thought, although everyone always seemed less nervous than he felt.

"While I can believe that we are trustworthy, there are other students well or better suited to these tasks. In particular, why not start with seventh years? Or at the least, the Weasley twins?"

"Consider," Snape drawled, "the current roster of seventh year students, how many show any initiative whatsoever, versus how many are young death eaters, or soon to be."

"And you will find Miss Granger," MacGonagall added, that the reason you were not missed was that the Weasley twins managed to change which hallways went to which common rooms for a good three hours last night. We have only just managed to get the corridors to settle back down."

As the students left the Headmaster's office, an invisible force pulled them into a closed-off corridor, and a faceless voice, uttered dozens of charms. All three of them had wands drawn but barely had time to put shields up before Lily Potter Evans' head, and only her head, appeared.

"Sorry to startle you, but the headmaster and I have different ideas about how much you should know and when ou should be allowed to learn it. I managed to get this for you, for now." She handed them a few slips of paper. "It won't be long before Albus knows I've done this, but by then I hope you'll know enough." Lily's head vanished again, leaving them agape, to read what she had written.

"Spoken by Sybill Trelawney to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on the eve of April 16th, 1980.

The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to Three Defiances, born as the Seventh Month Dies.  
And the Dark Lord will Choose him as his Equal, but his Power will be Unknown.  
And One must die at the Hand of the Other, for Those Two different spirits Cannot Exist in the Same World."


	11. Chapter 11

"Okay piece by piece let's go over this one more time." Cedric seemed remarkably cool, but Neville was exhausted and while Hermione continued to pace and nigh-constantly pull books from the shelves, she was moving more slowly than usual and the explosive frizziness of her hair in first year had returned.

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.' Not the one who WILL, but who has the power to. Approaches; could mean born, could mean steps up."

"Born to three defiances," Cedric continued. "This bit seems like it could mean many different things. I know Professor Potter and her husband survived three encounters with Voldemort before the night he died. It could mean something like that."

"'Born as the seventh month dies' seems straightforward, but..."

Cedric eyed Neville warily.

"But who would believe that **I** was prophecied to defeat Voldemort? Besides, it could be someone born long ago who only resolved to fight then, like the Headmaster or the defense professor. Or someone like Barty Crouch who had the power but failed and died."

"Neville." Hermione leaned over the table to look him straight in the eye. "Cedric and I are the top students in the entire school. You're here because the Headmaster and Professor Potter believe in you. You need to know that you can live up to that! You're going to be a great wizard, not just some day, but some day soon. You're making the most progress on the animagus exercises, you were one of the first students to produce a corporeal patronus and THE first to produce a shield, and you can't keep pinning your progress on our busier class schedules. Not with all the essays she keeps making you write!"

Neville felt more awake than he had for hours, but only because he was terrified.

Hermione stopped for breath, and there was a moment of silence before Cedric started to speak.

"Hermione might be a bit... scary about it, but she's right-"

"No. It's not that, I know she's right, but it's not her I'm scared of." Neville took a deep breath.

"If I was chosen, that means I have to fight the dark lord. 'Either must die at the hand of the other.' And it means it's all on me; all this responsibility."

"Neville..." Hermione tried to interject.

"It doesn't say 'Someone with the power...' it says 'THE one with the power to vanquish the dark lord'! That means it is JUST ME. I'm the ONLY one who can do it, and there's no one else..."

"NEVILLE!" Hermione slapped him this time.

"You aren't going to be alone for this! Even if you face the Dark Lord, you won' be doing it alone. You'll be doing it with US!"

Cedric nodded. "We've talked about dozens of ideas for 'his power will be Unknown,' and while a late bloomer like you fits the bill, so do secrets, friendships, and obscure families like mine and Hermione's. If anything makes the exclusion from this table of Fred, George, Luna, and Susan, it is that they come from _famous pure-blood families_! Lily didn't just bring us here because of our minds, she brought us here because she knew we could stay by your side."

Neville looked away, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"It's late, we should get back to our dorms."

"Fair point, Neville." Cedric agreed. "Hermione, I trust you'll let him get enough sleep? It's 3 O'clock, he'll need some more time before breakfast."

A few rows of bookshelves away, a student with platinum blonde hair sat alone, thinking, now that the listening was done.

Professor Potter was right, he had been convinced that he needed to lead a lesson for the deputies on secrecy and protective charms.

But what did she hope to gain from having him overhear her plans for the prophecy?

Did she expect him to foil their plans, or join them? Would she be happier with what she expected him to do, or if he broke form?

And what was it that HE could gain from this situation? Warn Voldemort that a 14-year-old with terrible marks was after him, alongside a mudblood and a Hufflepuff?

Or let an unknown threat to the Dark Lord grow unchecked?

And another lesson sinking in; it is incredibly difficult to fight an intelligent opponent.

At least he was learning a lot in defense class.


	12. Chapter 12

"Dearest Father," the note had begun, in what Lucius identified as Draco's most formal handwriting, used only when he had something to hide.

"Some of my classmates have been playing tricks on me. I can't tell whether they are just being friendly or whether I should tell a professor to put a stop to it. I don't want to be a tattle-tale but some of the tricks are pretty nasty. What do I do?"

A younger voice-something serious enough to hide from the Wizengamot.

Students at Hogwarts plotting something? It could be dangerous or it could be harmless. If a professor was involved, though, and likely the defense professor judging from Draco's earlier letters... It could be a credible threat to his Lord. The Potters were descendants of the Peverells, the secrets of death might not be beyond their grasp.

Still, to fuss over nothing would bring him torture.

For the Dark Lord to fall... it might not be too bad for house Malfoy. A subtlety Draco might soon be old enough to appreciate.

"Dearest Son,  
It is easier to underestimate one's peers than to get along with them.  
Try talking to them, and go to the professor if that doesn't work out. Also, I hear you are spending more time with the Carrow twins. I hope you enjoy yourself, but I don't want my little boy growing up too fast and spending all his time with girls.  
Best,  
Lucius"

If anyone thought it odd the next day when Draco Malfoy sat next to Tracey Davis and studied with Zacharias Smith, they knew better than to mention it.


	13. Chapter 13

"I know you have a lot o questions, Hermione, but this time is only appropriate for certain subjects. What I will say, on a personal note, is that you remind me so much of myself at your age." Lily smiled, and the young woman in her office blushed.

"I was muggleborn too, you know. But something I had the chance to do in Professor Slughorn's class that Severus would never allow, was experiment with potions."

Hermione gasped. "But magical experiments are extremely dangerous! MacGonagall said just-"

"Minerva says many things." Lily waved her hand dismissively. "Most are wise but few are truly original. Transfiguration is by far the most dangerous, but potions is surely second. This is why Horace found it best to let us attempt experiments under close supervision, rather than pursuing them decades later, on our own, guided only by cracked old parchment."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"So I have arranged for you to be given the opportunity to do so, along with a selection of other students Severus has selected as good candidates for N.E.W.T.s in potions."

Hermione froze, gaped momentarily, and straightened up before responding.

"You're putting me in a room with a dozen older Slytherins and that GIT of a professor? You don't expect me to actually learn anything about _potions,_ do you?"

Lily cracked a smile.

"I'm glad you've learned to loosen your tongue a little bit. But Severus is an old friend, you'll be safe. You have, however, correctly identified that learning about POTIONS is not your primary objective..."


	14. Chapter 14

Neville flexed, breathed deeply, felt the fur that might soon cover his body. He plucked out one of his hairs, and stirred.

Cedric jumped, slashed with his wand, conjured shields, and somehow stood his ground against the entire sixth year of Hogwarts in defense class.

But the most difficult task fell to Hermione, who found herself in a dank room of the dungeons, sitting next to DRACO MALFOY because he was the LEAST UNPLEASANT PERSON THERE.

"I'm not sure I approve your methods, Lily." Albus frowned.

"But they do get results." Alastor paced, the eye of Vance rotating freely in its socket. "None of the buggers flinched when I pounced on 'em, and to hear his grandmother tell it, he would have flinched at a picture of me just last year."

Lily nodded, lips pursed.

"If I may, Headmaster," Severus drawled, "Wile Miss Granger's work is... unassailable, it is unclear what good the expansion of the potions club is doing for our cause."

"Surely you have deduced, Severus, that their purpose is to push Draco closer to Hermione." Albus sighed.

"Yes, and this is my point." Severus' eyes darted from Hermione to Lily.

"Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy hardly exchange two words to each other in a class when they work together."

"Were we much different in our first year?" Lily interjected. "Yet much came of that."

Snape cringed.

"Still, it wouldn't hurt to try a bit harder..." Lily's eyes drifted to Hermione.

"Really, Miss Potter!" Minerva stood. "I won't stand for this. You won't tell a student of my house to make friends with someone who may attempt to KILL her ANY DAY! You KNOW Lucius has increased his correspondence tenfold in the past weeks!"

Albus cleared his throat, and silence fell before any more yelling could commence.

"We are all tired. Perhaps it is best if we retire for tonight and discuss things in more depth tomorrow."

At this, Lily stalked off immediately, and was down the rotating stairs before anyone else could leave their chairs.

Slowly the others filed out, Minerva simmering, Hermione's head spinning, Severus with an overly controlled calm. Cedric was silent, but put his hand on Hermione's shoulder as they left.

Neville surprised himself with a thought-how little they had actually discussed, and how much he cared. How much he wanted to contribute.

Albus, alone in his office, spoke.

"You should not be so obvious about it. You know he has the stone and he knows I have the wand. To show him the cloak is to bait him with the immense power."

Lily shimmered into existence, a silvery cloak falling from her shoulders into a sleeve.

"Only Severus would guess. You told them you would tell them the prophecy. You did not."

"You already told them the prophecy, of course Miss Potter. And do you expect me to trust Snape? He is a pawn of the Dark Lord. The points are not unrelated."

Lily straightened at this. "Ah. Severus' loyalty to me is what keeps him from Voldemort, and you don't trust me."

"Not at all, my dear!" Albus chortled. "This is why I am allowing you to direct events! Severus MUST report on me to keep up appearances, even you cannot keep him from that. But a mismanaged campaign and the prospect of my senility will be better news for him to receive. With Flamel now dead at his hand in Brussels, it may even be news he will believe."

Lily's heart sank.

"And you don't trust Minerva to keep a secret. How did you talk the sorting hat out of tossing you in Slytherin, you old snake? Still, I hadn't heard about Nicolas. My condolences. In that case I may have rushed into things with Draco."

"Not at all my dear. I can send a letter to Gellert for you if you think it necessary."

"No, no, I can take care of it. So i you've delegated the hunt to me, what are you planning?"

"Not to be rude, but I'll give you two questions to answer your one. What are my greatest strengths?"

Instantly, "Hogwarts the chief warlock position, the elder wand, your work with Flamel, the lore you uncovered with Grindelwald."

Albus nodded. "Second; what do Rubeus Hagrid, Pomona Sprout, Sybill Trelawney, and the Nuremgard owl post policy have in common?"

Lily's brow furrowed and Albus smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered I'm below the radar or offended I was left out."

"Rather, Alastor, I expect that our dear Lily does not consider your power mine, and quite rightly. While I expect others to know you for my ally."

Alastor Moody coughed. "Well, we're here now. You sure this is the right place?"

"As sure as one can be, who has visited a place once. No glamour then could Tom Riddle have conjured, and no glamour now hides it." Dumbledore stopped in his steps, drawing from his sleeve an old sweatervest, somewhat moldy. "Can the Eye of Vance track his path?"

Moody didn't turn as the Eye did, to take in the residue of a young Tom's discarded garment. He could already see the path as the signature became clear. "Down toward the beach."

Lily arrived at the Headmaster's office only a minute late-not much notice for a meeting directly after class, and her classes would not be neglected, even for Albus' command. Where plots might fail, a populace might succeed.

But when she arrived, Albus was gone, and another witch sat in one of two comfortable chairs before the desk. Face nervous behind large, round-rimmed glasses, mouth opening to speak some timid hello.

"Wait here Alastor. I shall explore the cave alone first. Slytherin's secrets may reveal themselves to the Headmaster's office before the Eye of Vance."

"BY THE FALL OF THE GOLDEN PHOENIX, IT IS FOUND. HID FROM TRUE DARKNESS BY DEEPEST BLACK. AND AS ALL ARE REVEALED, STILL ANOTHER SHALL RISE AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES. ANOTHER SHALL RISE AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES."

Lily blinked.

"HOLD, Alastor! It is done. Endanger not yourself as well."

Albus walked slowly as he emerged from the cave, stumbling slightly, just close enough for Moody to catch him.

"Return to the tower, Sybill. I'll tell the headmaster off for keeping you waiting." Lily spoke softly, with a gentle smile.

"It isn't his place to play with our lives without arriving himself. I'm certain you've nothing to worry about."

He arrived soon after Sybill left, Moody at his side and a deep sickness on his face. Rage faded to fear as she thought of the words spoken, and from this confusion a question fell.

"Did you call Sybill Trelawney here?"

Albus did not respond, his face too tired to react, far beyond thrice masked questions. Old, he seemed, so old in that moment.

"No, I did." Moody interrupted her stare. "Albus dragging me off alone somewhere, it's best for someone responsible to meet with the seer. What did she say?"

"I think it is best if you tell me your results first, that we not poison the results of interpretation."

Moody dropped the locket of Salazar Slytherin on the Headmaster's desk.

Lily stood up in shock, wand unconsciously drawn in the same motion.

"Not to worry, it's a fake."

Lily relaxed slightly, but her brow remained heavily furrowed.

As Sybill Trelawney climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, wear and fear shown heavily on her face. And shortly behind her, a disillusioned figure began composing a letter.

"Lucius,  
It has happened, and I have missed it."


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione curled into her chair, arms wrapped around her knees, with her head in between. After a few awkward minutes the sobbing subsided, and Lily coughed, testing the waters.

Strange that she had prepared in advance for Albus' death, but not for comforting distraught teenagers. Lily promised herself to do better next time.

"Do you really think he's going to die?" The young girl spoke at long last.

"Not immediately, not soon. But he will no longer be able to face Voldemort as his equal, and that means Hogwarts will not long be safe from attack. Which is why I need your help."

Hermione nodded.

The headline was triumphant, as Lucius Malfoy's pawns would rightly feel at the news. For the first time in history, Azkaban was breached. Azkaban was broken.

"AZKABAN'S DOORS OPEN TO DARK LORD; MINISTRY CONSIDERS SURRENDER"

Something in Neville broke. A feeling that might previously have been fear was instead a terrible, molten rage.

"As much as I wish it weren't true, I think you must be right about the Headmaster. I can't think what else might be meant by the golden phoenix." Lily covered a scoff with a smile and Hermione continued. "The 'another shall rise' could mean that he'll create another horcrux; perhaps after we find the rest. Or it could mean the arrival of another powerful wizard... or both, due to the repetition. The bit about 'true dark' and 'deep black,' could that be about Azkaban?" Lily smiled, nodding along.

"Good analysis. I'd let you back to class, but for one correction. I suspect 'deepest black' refers to Regulus Arcturus Black, and that this refers to Slytherin's locket being in his possession. Unfortunately it may be better guarded there than it would have been in the cave."

Hermione frowned. "Why would you think that? And how on earth was **I **supposed to guess it?"

Lily's smile spread all the way to her eyes this time, and she let out a small laugh. "Oh, you weren't, dear. I simply had the pleasure of meeting Regulus through an old friend. And of reading this note, which he left inside a fake locket. Which is in his handwriting, and his style. The pompous ass."

"You know this is dangerous, right, Neville?"

"I know, Cedric. You think I don't know?!" Neville almost shouted. The waiting, the itching. He NEEDED it, needed to let it out.

"Well," Cedric hesitated slightly, checking his watch. "It has been he right amount of time. Let me put my shields up." Cedric began muttering charms, and Neville took in the padded walls that graced the room; the doors, the obstacles, the distances, and as Cedric silenced, Neville growled.

"So the Black house is protected by a secret-keeper? Who do you think it is? And how could we possibly get to it?"

"Miss Granger, we will. I have another meeting, with the Headmaster. I trust that you will soon puzzle out who is closest to the Blacks, and safest. Now get back to potions like I told you to ten minutes ago."

As Lily left, Hermione cursed the thought that after this she had to go back to... and then it sank in. And Hermione's jaw dropped at the audacity.

Neville leapt.

Not leapt, pounced.

"Minerva, I hope you understand."

"I'm quite sure I don't, Albus! We need you, now more than ever! With the Dark Lord returned there is no other safe haven in all Britain! Xenophilius and Amos and Ambrosius have all owled me-after several unfavorable responses from _you_ which is all rather confusing and frightening, if you don't mind my saying so, Headmaster!"

Albus smiled wearily, as though the corners of his mouth needed to lift a thousand tons just to move the small distance.

"I trust that you will be able to do the paperwork for adjunct professorships when you are Headmistress, Minerva. As for myself, there are a few maters left which I must trust the completion of to your hands, and Lily's. You see, Rubeus will be returning soon, ad as spring approaches many of Pomona's projects will be beginning to bloom."

Pounce, leap, twist, roar.

Minor hexes; sleep hexes, a full body-bind jix. No effect.

Claw, run, pounce.

Stupefy, incarcerous, impedimenta!

Roar, leap, bite.

Confringo! Expulso! Reducto!

With the last, the leonine form went flying back, finally unable to dodge or absorb the blow. Rolling with the fall, a few stinging embers shattered onto his mane were extinguished.

And Neville, panting, lay on his back on the floor of the defense classroom, and stopped being a lion.

"Well, it seems that Caractacus Burke was correct. Anger does seem to increase your hex resistance. It won't help against the killing curse, but it's still quite something."

'Quite something? Understatement of the year, Cedric.' Neville thought, too tired to speak.


	17. Chapter 17

Draco smiled, just barely a sneer. Enough to signal his disdain to Flint and Jugson without revealing it to Granger. It was convenient that he could do that. Playing both sides became more and more necessary the less you knew which side you were on.

"Yes of course, the Blacks have always been the Malfoy's dearest friends. From whence your sudden interest in proper culture, Miss Granger?"

"Oh please, call me Hermione."

Did she just... _bat her eyelashes?_ What was she, nine years old? Oh, right, no, she was a Gryffindor. So yes, she was about as subtle as a nine-year-old.

"I just figured, if I wanted my own family to prosper like the Malfoys have I should start learning somewhere. And house Black... seems the most accessible of the noble and ancient houses..." Hermione trailed off.

Subtle as a freight train. Andromeda and Sirius, she'd probably heard of. The two most dead members of the Black family might not be the best for her to take cues from. Still, no reason to lose an opportunity. Hermione might be ridiculously bad at intrigue, but she was good at magic and she'd be a powerful witch some day. He had to acknowledge that, just as Lily Potter Evans had become. To dispose of someone like that, who perhaps already helped turn prophecy against the dark lord... it would earn him favor.

And best to do it before Bellatrix returned. An unoccupied house of Black would make for a better ambush. And after father's last meeting with Lestrange... Draco had plenty of control not to shudder, but the urge still came.

"I could take you for a tour of the Black house. I'm sure it would be quite informative for you."

"Oh! Would it even be possible to get in?"

"Like I said, Houses Malfoy and Black have long been allies. Of course you'll know my mother Narcissa is a Black."

The surprise in her eyes was fake. Of course Granger did her reading, why would she pretend otherwise? That worried him a little.

"Are you SURE?! He could see right through me, I'm a terrible actress."

"I counted on it. You'll be fine. I'll be at your side the whole time. Just don't ask me for advice if he tries to hold your hand."

312 Grimmauld Place.

It was, actually, quite a sight for her, as Draco flashed her the address, and the building in front of her worked its way slowly into existence.

She wished she could appreciate it more, instead of being so paranoid. Where was Lily? And it seemed unseasonably cold for March. This was supposed to be Spring break, not so-cold-it-almost-makes-you-sidle-up-to-MALFOY break.

Getting the address for Hermione from his mother had been easy. Explaining the situation to his father had been more difficult, but in the end the senior Misters Crabbe and Goyle had been assigned to wait inside. It should be more than enough. If only it weren't so cold. He kept feeling the instinct to offer Granger his jacket, and needing to remind himself that she was a mudblood and this wasn't a date. It was weird how few details his mother had asked for once he'd mentioned a girl, though.

"Let me go put on a spot of tea to help us warm up. I'll see if Kreacher can take your coat." Draco flashed Charming Smile Number Seven. He was pretty sure she blushed. Yeesh.

Well, that would end after tonight. Thankfully?

"Stupefy!" "Stupefy!" came muffled cries from the next room.

Then, "AIGH!" in a feminine voice. Well, not quite feminine. Not feminine enough, at least.

Then... Lily Potter's voice?

"Kreacher, don't let them find me." And Draco hid in a closet.

"Kreacher! I ask this favor, but for Regulus Black, whose work is unfinished!"

"You speak of master." Kreacher spat, appearing in a puff of magic. "Who are you to speak of master, mudblood witch?"

"Friend of Sirius, student of Andromeda. Now ally to Regulus. I seek to destroy the locket of Salazar, which he stole from the Dark Lord."

"You will destroy it?" Kreacher's mood suddenly lightened. "It must be destroyed, Kreacher tried to destroy it for master, but Kreacher couldn't. The mudblood will destroy it for us, take it, take it!"

"They are gone now, mister Malfoy. You may return home if you wish. Kreacher has prepared the floo."

"No thank you, Kreacher. I'll walk. I have some things to think about."

"Shall Kreacher wake Misters Crabbe and Goyle?"

"No. I mean, yes, of course, but wait until I've been gone a couple minutes."

That plan... had not gone terribly well.


	18. Chapter 18

"You know why I have ssssent for you, my sssservantssss."

Draco marveled, for this was the first time he had seen the Dark Lord in person for many years; since before Draco began at Hogwarts.

"It hasss been dissscovered, my sssssecret. It isss almossst sssscertainly Dumbledore'ssss doing."

His voice was a hiss, his face beyond recognition; nose slitted and snakelike. The handsome Tom Riddle was gone, and in his place was a monster.

A powerful, immortal monster. And perhaps one in whose service Draco could become equally powerful. Although...

"Missssterssss Crabbe and Goyle have failed me. Assss isss cussstom I ssshall hold Lussssiussss resssponsssible. Bellatrixssss, pleasssse..."

"Crucio!" The witch shrieked, and cackled with pleasure as Draco watched his father writhe in pain.

Draco had forgotten that this would happen, when he decided to leave Grimmauld Place.

Forgotten that the failures of the senior Crabbe and Goyle would be blamed on father.

Forgotten that Voldemort was HERE, which meant that father wasn't in charge any more.

Forgotten that Bellatrix was free again.

"My apologies, my lord."

And Draco was surprised. Not by the grace with which father handled torture. That was only to be expected from Lord Malfoy. But by his father's steadfastness, when Draco had let him down.

"But surely your other secrets are safe. Malfoy manor remains impregnable, as does Gringotts."

"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix gleefully began again at a gesture from her lord.

"Fool! Do not ssspeak of sssuch thingsss! Sssssafe asss I am, the Headmasssster issss no fool! He will sssseek, and if you are thissss carelesssss with wordss, he will find. Be glad your ssstatusss in the minissstry sssavesss you for now, but rely not upon it for further arrogancssse, asss the minissstry ssshall ssssoon fall..."

"...Which is all Voldemort told me to tell you. Why he trusts you when you were not present, he did not say, however."

Snape smirked at Draco's implied question.

"Surely you know that a Hogwarts professor has responsibilities, mister Malfoy. I cannot hop to and from attention as others can, without arousing suspicion."

"Then you are truly loyal." Draco said, meeting Severus' eye, and recalling his father's words.

'Of course, I forget that only Severus and I are so trusted.'

'Malfoy Manor remains impregnable, as does Gringotts.'

Severus' smirk remained.

"I am as loyal to the dark lord as you are, mister Malfoy."

Well, thought Draco, that doesn't tel me anything.

"Thank you, Severus. I shall call on Alastor. I cannot tell you how valuable this information is."

"You will not go yourself, Headmaster? Surely with Professor Flitwick at your side, you could negotiate with the goblins..."

"No, Severus, I am afraid my lot is to stay here. I trust Alastor to the task."

And one evening after potions research, as Hermione commented on the creativity of the Draught of Deathly Life, but its lack of seeming usefulness, Draco again caught Snape's eye, and in a glance heard a message in his mind:

"Tell Lucius that Dumbledore is weakening. Perhaps the tide again changes."


	19. Chapter 19

The goblins eyed Moody with a great deal of apprehension, and not without reason, Neville found. Unlike the last dozen wizards passing underneath the green sparkles of the thief's downfall, Moody did not have a single yellow burst surrounding his wand. He was instead covered in a glorious crimson.

His hip flask was removed as a goblin whispered "polyjuice." A small package was taken from under his cloak, "classified, list B." A dozen knives were drawn from his left boot, made from different metals. Likely silver, cold iron, gold, and ironwood. An acromantula leg was untangled from around his waist. And after some significant difficulty a six inch long tooth was extracted from... Neville couldn't exactly tell where. It looked like his bottom, but there wasn't any opening there for them to have pulled it out of.

The goblins whispered a very quiet question to him then, to which Moody responded with a large grin and a small nod, and one goblin ran off with the tooth, returning moments later with a large, sealed box.

The goblins eyed Moody's eye, and it eyed them back for a few tense moments, and they eventually settled for just confiscating his wand.

Walking him through the thief's downfall again, Moody still blasted a vibrant red from his eye, but the rest of his body cooled to a yellow not much more dangerous than most wands, and the goblins conferred among themselves and seemed to decide that this was the best they could hope for.

A few minutes later, Neville and Luna entered Gringott's. No need to formally announce their connection to Moody and subject themselves to further scrutiny.

Neville's whole body tingled with a yellow verging on orange, as bring as his wad, and a goblin raised one eyebrow while consulting some kind of chart, then whispered, "congratulations," and let him pass.

Luna's entire body was such a calm green it was almost blue, and the suspicious goblins made her pass through three times, the third time while actively brandishing her wand. When the thief's downfall reused to identify even this with anything closer to yellow than an earlier customer's pinky toe they agreed she must be harmless.

When they provided their keys they were hustled onto the same cart as Alastor, and Luna's wand was in his hand so soon after they were out of sight of the office that Neville thought it was magic for years before Alastor deigned to teach him muggle sleight-of-hand.

Once Moody had a wand, it was a simple enough matter to imperius the driver and find their way to the correct vault number Lily had obtained from Snape. He also managed to unlock what he revealed was a basilisk tooth from what he explained was a safe deposit package for storing magical weaponry.

What would actually be difficult, Moody continued, would be getting back out.

Moody cast a wide variety of charms and still insisted Neville shift into his animagus form after the goblin unlocked the cell. Then Neville, now a disillusioned, hovering, ray-shielded, silenced, shrunk, nondetectioned, charmed-to-appear-dead, charmed-to-appear-nonmagical, charmed-to-detect-as-a-snake Lion with a basilisk tooth held very carefully in his jaws, floated into the room.

Moody's eye easily identified Helga Hufflepuff's cup in the packed piles of brass serving dishes, cutlery, and knick-knacks.

Neville floated slowly over to it, then in one quick motion drove the tooth into the cup. He hesitated momentarily, mourning the destruction of one of Helga's last heirlooms, who had not been evil and deserved to be remembered, before he was puled forcibly out of the vault by a gesture from Moody. Brass exploded behind him, a torrent of metal which might have threatened to drown him or beat him to death had he stayed a moment longer. Neville gave a quiet gulp as the imperiused goblin closed the doors behind him.

"No time for that sentimental reverie, Longbottom. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! They'll have noticed the ruckus," Moody snapped, and and they began to move along a different path in the cart. "We're taking the express route this time, which means we'll be passing a dragon. I'll take care of the flames, Lovegood watch that the cart keeps going. Longbottom, watch the jaws and claws. It's coming up, and..."

All Neville remembered of the encounter was a raging wall of fire surround them and washing barely past the sides of the cart, an intense load of adrenaline so powerful it gave him nightmares, and constant movement.

When he finally returned to human form his body reminded him of somewhat more in the form of dozens of bruises and gashes adorning every corner of his body, though at least he didn't see any on anyone else. Luna took her wand back and muttered words that he couldn't hear but which kept him from falling unconscious.

"I'll have your wand now, boy, and Luna hers. We've done well so far but we're just getting to the difficult part." Moody steeled himself and began piling up defensive charms at an alarming speed.

But when they emerged into the entrance hall of Gringott's they did not find a legion of armed goblin soldiers. They found instead a warning beacon blaring unattended, and a large sign saying "Gringott's will be closing without notice due to the expiration of the treaty of Nurmengard." As they stepped into the room they saw one more thing. A banner, prominently displayed on the wall, showing a live, annotated picture of the Ministry of Magic. Showing the court of the Wizengamot, and the seat of the supreme mugwump. And in that seat, unmistakable, the Dark Lord Voldemort.


	20. Chapter 20

The ministry was his, but this was not the only reason Voldemort laughed.

He also laughed because he had finally had use of his most valuable servant. One moment of mercy and a wait of thirteen years, and his investment in Severus Snape had paid off. For Dumbledore was dying, and now no one was left to oppose him.

Two women sat by Albus' bedside. One attentive, keen, good posture, but close and kind and sad. The other near the opposite, sprawled backward over a chair in a far corner of the room, reduced to mad gibbering and drool. Sybill Trelawney had not produced more words as Lily had hoped she might, to gain clues at the future. She had instead produced only a piercing scream, and lost all semblance of sanity.

"We are at a crossroads of fate, Lily." Albus said between weak coughs, for it was Lily who stood over him while Minerva attended to the running of Hogwarts.

"The eye of the seer sees something it does not understand; a choice, a battle perhaps, whose outcome is uncertain."

Lily swallowed hard, forced herself to ask. "How can the outcome be uncertain without you? We know not how many traps Voldemort laid, and we have little hope of fighting him as we are, even had we destroyed all his horcruxes."

Dumledore coughed again and turned to face her, and she saw the drawn skin, the pulsing in his veins to which no countercurse had been found. Worst, as he smiled she saw the rot of his teeth and throat, which made it painful for him to speak. She looked away.

"Lily, I will be fighting alongside you. All of Hogwarts is your ally," he coughed again, more powerfully this time and with much rasping. The cough continued for several seconds before Lily heard a slimy sound that made her glad she had turned away. "Lily," he rasped, finally, "tell Minerva that my plans are set. Tell her I am proud of her, and that she will be a wonderful headmistress." She nodded silently, and his eyes closed.

"Professor."

"Headmaster."

"I suppose this means it is happening. I will summon professors Flitwick and Babbling to awaken the guardians and strengthen the wards."

"Bring Sinestra, Rubeus, and Pomona as well. Sinestra can assist with strategy, and did Albus tell you what he had planned with the others?"

"No," Minerva looked thoughtful for a moment, "he gave me a riddle instead. It's obvious enough now, anyway."

Lily nodded.

Minerva grabbed some floo powder and stuck her head into the fireplace of the headmaster's office, and Lily began scribbling notes on parchment.

Hermione and Cedric waited, worried, in the mess of students who had been assembled. Even if Susan and Ginny and Cho and Anthony and Ron and Parvati and Dean were there, and dozens of others, even if so many more people had been told of the fight they'd been fighting since last term, they still felt alone. Neville and Luna weren't back, and the twins were gone as well.

If they though they were scared while waiting, though, they were wrong.

CRASH!

There's a bravery that comes with knowing what lies ahead, a feeling of having thought things through enough to win.

CRASH!

And then things start, and you don't have any control any more like you did when you ran things through your mind. You don't have any control, you don't have any idea what's going ON any more.

CRASH!

RUMBLE.

The guardians stepped forward, giant stone statues now covered in runes. The first line of defense against intruders in Hogwarts. Against, in this case, the forces of the dark lord.

Hermione could hear spells now, the death eaters were fighting the guardians. But not all were. Black shadows screamed overhead, and billows of green smoke rained down on the students. Some keeled over-Kevin Entwhistle was unconscious-and a huge shimmering shield emerged from the wand of the tiny professor Flitwick.

"RUN! DODGE!" He shouted, and they did as horrible green bolts can tumbling from the shadows above them, straight through any and all shields, and Hermione dove to the ground and saw Michael Corner in front of her and didn't see him breathing. She blanched.

BOOM!

That hadn't been the wards or the spells-one of the guardians had finally fallen, and in death it rained destruction on those around it; the potent energy of the runes sewn into them released in an explosion.

Many of the clouded forms above her turned away, and Hermione heard shrieks of "the trees!" from the invaders' direction.

Pomona's crop of Mandrakes and Treants seemed to have matured on time.

And Hermione turned on instinct to look back at the castle as she stood, and noticed Cedric at her back again, reassuring her. And she also saw the real fight.

Students were falling, some hexing each other, and no one seemed to have started making a defensive line against the crowd, the tide of green-trimmed black robes that were emerging from inside the castle.


	21. Chapter 21

High-pitched laughter, sounding even younger than the teenage twins who produced it. Little giggles in stereo, surrounding them. And alongside the giggles, spiders poured forth from the dancing wands of the skipping Carrow twins.

"I can't tell which chittering noise is worse." Hermione whispered to Cedric, who somehow managed to crack a good natured smile in response.

"Remember, they don't have enough power to make all the spiders poisonous, but they're smart enough to mix the poisonous ones with the others." Cedric spoke evenly, his reminder being less meant to jog memory and more meant to bring on a prepared state of mind. Hermione had learned this after reminding him several dozen times of how good her memory was.

She brandished her wand and gave an internal sigh. "I can't believe I'm doing this." And from her wand came the image (not the form) of a mighty, ancient serpent, at whose presence the spiders' line broke as nearly half went scurrying into the forest.

The twins' giggling didn't subside, even as Cedric and Hermione refreshed their shields and turned on them in proper dueling stance.

In the moment the pairs faced off, Hermione's image of a basilisk set off a great hissing cry, and she gave a look of shock and the unearthly sound, and a look of greater shock at the strange reply it found.

"Close your eyes." Cedric and Hermione reminded each other simultaneously.

"Brilliant idea, Fred."

"Well you know it wasn't mine, George."

"I know, I'm just telling you. It's brilliant!"

Neville looked up from his transfiguration, less patient than he normally felt.

"Yes, when you ask the greatest dark wizard of the last century how to take over a major government, you get a well thought out and effective plan."

Neville was still a bit uncomfortable with the idea of asking Gellert Grindelwald for advice. And perhaps more worrisome for him was how easily Fred and George took to it. He'd always admired the twins, even in his first year when they'd teased him mercilessly. But at times like these he worried a bit about their moral integrity.

"A bit touchy, inn'e, Fred?"

"You would be too, if..." Fred trailed off, and the twins' heads turned to Neville in somber unison.

They returned to transfiguring the structural supports of the Ministry of Magic into swamp biomass in silence, and Neville's mind wandered to his friends back at Hogwarts.

And to their foes.

Filius Flitwick did not look like a dueling champion. He did not act like a dueling champion. Yet as tempting as these sentences are, they are false. Because Filius Flitwick WAS a dueling champion, and so whatever manner he chose to look or act in really was how dueling champions looked and acted. And looking back at past famed champions, from Alastor Moody to Baba Yaga to Lucius Malfoy, one might decide that a coherent notion of what a dueling champion ought to look like was a bit of a pipe dream anyway.

But those sorts of conversations were in Filius' distant past. His current conversation, with one Bellatrix Lestrange, went rather more like this:

"INCARCERO!" "IMPEDIMENTA!" "AVADA KEDAVRA" "STUPEFY" "FINITE INCANTATEM" "COGISEMPRUM""PETRIFICUSOCULUS"

And had quickly escalated into words unheard by mortal ears for decades, incantations original to each and spells long thought lost to time. Bursts of black smoke, Slytherin's ancient secrets known only to the Death Eaters. Wordless power native to goblinkind.

This had been Sinestra's idea, actually. A "locally optimally partitioning strategy" she had called it; pairing the strongest duelists. Lily had called it good for morale, and Filius agreed. Not fighting Bellatrix Lestrange was definitely good for everyone else's morale.

But while others might not yet notice it, Filius could feel the strength of Bellatrix' magic on his shields. He could see where her madness outwitted his predictions. He could tell you, down to the second, down to the spell, when he would lose this duel.

Minerva McGonagall was doing something that she always told students never to do. Something she'd been told never to do, even by Albus when he had been her teacher. Something she had expelled students for. Something that three of her students might have died from had she not arrived in time. One of only four causes of concurrent student death since the founding of Hogwarts.

She was using transfiguration to attack people.

Wrapping feet in stone had been largely ineffective against the Death Eaters' flying charms.

Reconfiguring the battlefield had made their flight paths more difficult, and had given the guardians more avenues of attack, and had given her students more cover.

She had been satisfied with this, one good idea, for a moment or two. Then a death eater had tossed a single green bolt at one of her students.

Turning the intervening air to lead had not helped, only showered shrapnel on the surroundings. Transfiguring the ground beneath Padma's feet had not helped-it tripped her, but at such an angle that she was still in the path of-

Transfiguring a piece of lead shrapnel into a boulder as it hurtled toward the death eater had helped. Helped her feel better. A little. A different kind of bad, at least.

She kept doing it.

Lily Potter was not a dueling champion. She was not party to ancient secrets of Slytherin or of goblins. She had not honed her practice of charms or transfiguration for several decades, to the point of genius or even of creative usefulness.

In fact, Lily Potter's natural reflexes were somewhat bad, and she was not a notable duelist at all. In school, her best subject had been potions. The last Great defense professor, before Voldemort's curse was placed on the position, had retired just before her first year.

Lily Potter was 34, nearly a baby by the standards of Dumbledore.

But Lily Potter was of the family Peverell, and she had some measure of power over death.

Her strides unseen, her whispers of "innervate" unheard, her power conserved for the trump card Voldemort would never attack without holding.

When Hermione's false basilisk hissed, many things began to happen.

Filius' memory coughed up a tale fifty years past. His estimate of the length of his battle dropped ten seconds. His sympathy for Rubeus Hagrid waxed. Bellatrix started, and then cackled. Gloriously, joyously, rapturously. Distractedly.

Flitwick poured his magic into an enormous prismatic barrier. After a moment's notice and hesitation, Minerva joined him.

Cedric grabbed Hermione, whose wand was still wantonly, blindly blazing, and disapparated.

And Lily Potter performed what might have been the largest side-along apparation in the entire history of magical Britain.

Minera looked over the courtyard of Hogwarts, her Hogwarts. Everywhere transfigured ditches, corpses, scorchmarks, crushed stone and broken tree limbs, still twitching. Death eaters, still, dozens and dozens more.

And Filius Flitwick. The only member of the Hogwarts staff older than she was.

She looked at him, as they poured their magic together into the barrier which now guarded no one.

He looked back at her, and she saw resignation in his eyes, and he whispered in such a way that it felt only she could hear, "go."

She saw Bellatrix flying headlong into him, and ten charms and hexes were coming at her as the death eaters regrouped, and she disaparated.


	22. Chapter 22

Lily Potter appeared, perhaps a hundred students surrounding her, in what should have been the main hall of the ministry of magic, but which was instead a swamp.

She took a moment to solidify a clearing, and to extract a few wounded students who were already knee deep in mud, before tracking down Fred, George, and Neville.

The three of them were extracting mid-level bureaucrats from alligators' jaws as she approached.

"This was the suggestion he gave you?" Lily's left eyebrow cocked.

Fred or George, the one with his hands free, turned and grinned. "Well, we took a few liberties with it."

She nodded. "Where's Lucius?"

Fred and George shot each other a worried look, and Neville stood to face her.

"He wasn't at Hogwarts, either, then? Voldemort must be holding him in reserve for something."

Lily's face was expressionless.

"Father, why is it that we aren't at the ministry?" Draco knew the answer, but he needed father to know that he knew, which meant asking.

"Draco, what have I always told you is the most important lesson of the Malfoys?"

"Never be less than second most powerful."

"And why have I needed to tell you this, rather than showing you?"

"Because of Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort."

"Yet, Draco, I might hope not to leave you with such a conundrum. Surely you can think of a wizard other than our lord who might surpass you before you surpass me."

And Draco realized that Lily Potter and Hermione Granger and Cedric Diggory and Severus Snape meant nothing to his father-mudbloods, Hufflepuffs, and pawns-and Neville Longbottom frightened him.

But second most powerful did not simply mean second most powerful in magic.

And so Draco knew.

"Perhaps, father, you might give me a task to prove my strength, that all such enemies of the most powerful wizard will be easily vanquished?"

And Lucius smiled. A small, grim smirk. And from somewhere unseen he produced a small, unremarkable notebook.

"Guard this with your life, my son."

Draco thought, as he accepted the book, of a wizarding world not dominated by two lunatics.

And Lucius felt pride in his son, and hope. Hope that his son might survive the dark lord's torture, treason mistaken for stupidity and punished with pain when Lucius himself died.

Not long after, in the abandoned streets o Diagon Alley, sae only temporarily as the Hogwarts grounds were secured, two cloaked figures entered the empty offices of Gringotts. And in the deepest chamber, beneath more traps than could ever exist, down more miles than the earth has buried inside it, past dragons and giants and walls whose every door was covered by a dozen layers of brick with no path left through, the cloaked pair stood, discarding a used portkey.

And one of them tossed a small, unremarkable book into the air, and it fell into a space which opened only for a moment. In that moment, the other figure's wand was out, and the brief glimpse of buried relics was quickly obscured by flame. First the book, then the locket, then the diadem, then the opening closed. And locked away, ten layers and a thousand miles from all reality, the priceless treasures burned. Hotter than dragon's flame, hotter than the molten core of earth, as hot as the center of a distant star, they burned forever. There, removed from both space and time by secrets even goblins had forgotten.

Sybill Trelawney's mind fell again open to the cosmos, but her mouth was in no place to make words. The true seer's calling found its equal in the dark lord's cruciatus curse; the realization of her former future screams overwhelming the new fate she might have seen.

Neville stood.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts."


End file.
